Cries for Freedom, a Flower in the Storm
by ColorGuardSweetHeartHottieFury
Summary: Their lives were a raisin in the sun, dried up and withered before they were even thirty. But that's why Fairytales were created, to warn children of the sufferings in the world, at least they originally were. The world of the storytellers, earth brutal and beastly as ever never was meant to interact with the world of it's making. But a family down on their luck, changes everything


_Hey I'm back, and I'll be updating the other stories soon.  
I'm posting this story in honor/dedication to my Great Uncle Harold Sommers, 'The Uncle, Uncle Harold'. He passed away Thursday January 15, 2015 in Yuma Arizona at the age of 97. My prayers are with his son and my grandmother. A lot has hit my family recently all at once, and I finally felt it was time to post something to honor him. I decided this story was best because every time I saw my great Uncle, a man who became dear as a grandfather since both my grandfathers passed either before I was born or when I was eight, he always came with stories of his hunting adventures. I think he often when I was young told me stories and what not, things I'd eagerly listen to. He was such a joyous man. I thought it time to post this, it felt right. I love you Uncy Harold (No that's not a miss spelling when I was a kid I had strange names for people and one meant calling my great uncle Uncy (Un-K-y), I haven't said it in years because I'm an adult it would be sorta strange, but he was my Uncy and I loved him.) I know God has him safe in heaven, he was truly a heavenly spirit on this earth to his dying breath.  
I also I choose this fiction because currently my family both extended and close family have been dealing with a lot in the last few months and some in the last year or two. I know many of us are in the place that in this chapter/prologue I know I put my character in. It's been hard on all of us, and I really do hope you enjoy this story._

_T__his is my story I most likely won't be updating to often, but will eventually update. This came to me one day after being shown the mini videos for the show Ever After High. I absolutely fell in love with the story they were trying to tell. How Raven believes in everyone having freedom to live their life the way they wish, instead of how their parents or others think they should. I think this show is deep down very modern in presenting the old fairytales in a new light, conflicting with the ideas of the time they were written that princess and princess always had to be together. Or what was really happening in the world in which occupations held by parents were often past down to the children, a popper could not become a prince, and women were handed (rather married off) for property and land. I love how the show challenges these concepts and what everyone usually thinks when looking at a fairy tale. No story is the same and what our parents do does not define who we are to be (at least not since the middle ages and industrial age it doesn't for many, but there are many country's that still see women in mind of property sadly). This show does an amazing job at it, and being a lover of the original (more gruesome fairytales, the ones my mother thought best to teach me first) I thought this is a fitting feministic show.  
With that said, I do not own anyone from Ever After High, though the concept is a wonderful modern envisioning. Nor do I take any money for writing this fic.. etc...  
I do own: Anora, Anabeth 'Ana, An', Dawn and Owen... As well as this take of the story...  
Note this chapter has no characters from Ever After High, this is meant to take in the world, on earth and not in the fairytale land that Ever After High takes place...  
__Enjoy  
Oh this chapter is pretty tragic, deels with thoughts of suicide and alcoholism, please be weary while reading this... Thank you__  
Speaking of Arizona GGGGGGGOOOOOOO HHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWKKKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSS!  
_

**_The Cry of Freedom, A Flower in the Storm!_**

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_** Chapter 1: Where Should We Begin?... Once Upon a Time…**_

"_Aunt Anora- Aunt Anora" The little two year old screamed running in her Disney princess night gown and matching purple pants as she slipped and slid down the hall, her twin brother and his Avengers pj's, cape in all trailing behind looking more and more like a super hero on a mission.  
The innocence of children was unmatched as they pushed open their aunt's door, or at least the room she stayed in their Montana villa, unaware to what they would find.  
Sitting there in the room, a heartfelt Hallmark movie on pause as she laid in the filth of her own Kleenex the young adult wept. Startled as she rushed to act as if she needed to pause the TV, trying to dry her eyes for the unhelpful announcement the children were ready to see her.  
She hated to cry in front of the young children. They couldn't possibly understand the reason for her tears or the scars on her leg, chest and abdomen she well hid from their curious site.  
"Auntie are you crying?" Sweet Anabeth to observant for her age asked, jumping on the bed, dissuading the tissues sprawled upon it.  
"Where's your uncle Owen, he's supposed to put you two darlings to bed tonight."  
"Someone called; he's been on the phone forever!" Dawn huffed as he was helped by his aunt up on the bed so he could sit opposite his twin.  
Rolling her eyes she laughed, knowing her old friend no doubt had the airport call him again, to see if he would cut his time off short for yet another flight.  
"Why you crying?" Anabeth asked again, puckering her lips as her cheeks reddened, hatting to be ignored.  
Sniffling, Anor did her best like covering up scars and bruises with makeup to hide her sudden tears. In truth she had been crying, but it wasn't because of the movie, though in a way it was.  
Closing her eyes she tried to forget the pain today brought. Two years already, she was headed onto vacation Labor Day week and her parents and her were stuck on that fateful hour when the world itself shattered into oblivion.  
"Just don't worry about it-"  
"You alright?"  
"I'm fine, thanks" she smiled at Dawn, rubbing his hairs out of place as he squirmed trying to move them back.  
"You need a kiss? Mommy and Daddy always kiss us when we're sad to make it better."  
"No-No I'm fine, my pain can't be solved by a kiss… Though it would be a dream if only it were that simple to solve." Smiling she glared at the dark blue eyed girl with elegant sandy blond hair like her mother, though no doubt the deep dark golden streaks of her father would take over one of these days, as they were apparent by the months to grow sharper and sharper.  
"N-Now what is it you want?"_

"_Tell us a story!" Ana asked, her pitchy voice delighted as if asking for a cookie.  
"Yeah you always tell the best stories, Uncle Owy doesn't do it right."  
"I'm sure he's trying, just give him a chance."  
The twins stared at each other, then back to their aunt as if that was not possible.  
Sighing with understanding that she could not talk them out of this one, she most hated Owen for not taking care of the twins on a day he should know she was most emotional. She shook her face, still drying the wet tears from her cheek trying to present herself as happier then she was before.  
"Alright, first let me check your breath-"both huffed without her leaning close, though she did not have to, for her to detect the hint of sugary treats on their breath. With a heavy frown and delighted sigh she pointed her finger to the door and asked "Go brush your teeth; I'll meet the two of you in your bedrooms. Now go, before the tickle monster gets you! Rrr!" Screaming all too hyper for this time of night, the two children skated into the hall with speeds only the light could match.  
Releasing a heavy breath, nearly finding laughter overriding her sorrow she smiled. But once they were gone the fearful sorrow returned. Falling into the pillow she stared into the pure nothingness of the ceiling. Staring trying to forget the feeling of her world crumbling around her and waking up to find herself in a room she didn't recognize, until she heard the beeps of the machine.  
Shaking the thoughts out of her, determined the twins should not see. A sudden sound of Ana screaming as her brother yelled "No fair, do over" as yet another of their silly games commenced, their little feat pitter patting across the carpet and wood floors, Anora rolled her eyes quite sure what they were up to.  
"You two teeth now or it's no story" the sounds of their feet running for their bathroom as the grunted and shoved the other the way there cleared the air.  
Feeling all the more like a mother, she shook her head, laughing in delight, enjoying the distraction they were too young to understand, as she walked into the twins bedroom, knowing Ana's was the better of the two to share her room and tell a story before tucking them in their separate beds in the separate rooms.  
Before long, as if knowing which room she would choose they rushed into Ana's room, both situating themselves inside the sheets, as Anora leaned off the wall and looked to the twins with a suspicious smile._

"_Breath check-"they huffed in her direction the moment she neared, refusing at first until she ticked the curves of their neck and neither could play the game anymore. Luckily, all she could smell of the minty bubblegum playful flavor that was of their toothpaste, though who couldn't take notice of their shining teeth. Nodding in delight once of approval she sat what she could besides the twins at the edge of the bed with a smile. "Alright what should it be, the Littlest Princess, Betty Bears Birthday, Corduroy, Goodnight-Moon? SO what shall it be?"  
Glancing all the more with delight, the twins looked at each other in agreeance.  
"Tell us one your mommy taught you! Those are always the best."  
"You sure? Cause last time I remember you really wanted-"  
"Story-story!" they began chanting laughter from behind caught her every attention.  
Owen stood all too proudly at the doorway; his gentle lips perched up with delight, as if boasting to the juries choosing. "Looks like they've got you beat."  
"Well this was your night to tuck them in, so why don't you buck up sit here with me and help me tell the g- goodness darn story. That is before I get you where it hurts!" He moved quick, chuckling as he did. His dark ocean blue eyes staring into her dancing dark deep evergreen as if laughing at her threat, knowing her all the best. Rather he laughed cause he knew she wouldn't have it in her.  
"I swear I will" she whispered under her breath as he sat wrapping his arms around one of his oldest friends.  
"Yeah like you and their mom swore to bury the other when one of you did something the other didn't like."  
"We still will I swear to you-"  
"Then her ghost will come kick your keister, yeah-yeah I know the gist. I've seen the most of it through this bizarre friendship of ours."  
Growling annoyed, she erected a smile, trying to compensate for the man who could fester her nerves like no one else. In attempt to think through the stories she had told and ones she had as a blessed distraction from his jesterness. Though it burned to tell an original version of the old fairytales there was one in particular she felt even burned the most yet for today felt all the more right to tell. A story her mother and her had shared for long as the favorite princess story they knew, someone who beat the odds and in a way was a feminist in a story as old as time itself.  
"Alright" she turned her threatening gaze to the laughing brute behind her, only causing the two children to be all the more hyper, as she glared at him for his making.  
"You're dealing with them if they can't get to sleep."  
"Ok-ok-" he threw his hands up in defense, though she glared unconvinced he would stop anytime soon. _

"_If you insist on being hyper, the least you can do is help me tell this story. I know you know the original, please help me voice characters. They like it when I do." She lastly boast to end his boyish flaunting.  
"They like it when I do" he mocked as she turned around, only to get a sharp elbow into the chest. "Oh" rubbing his aching chest looking at her with anger from the sharp pain her knife like elbow's presented.  
"I heard that" he stuck his tongue out already annoyed by the woman he saw every day as his sister growing up.  
"Alright, Long ago-"  
"Every story starts with Once upon a time" chuckling Anora messed with the hairs atop Anabeth's head "Not every story does, for this one does not. Now if you want me to continue, I need you to stop asking questions before I even begin."  
Nodding the two snuggled further into the bed, forcing Owen and Anora to laugh as they both combed their hands over the two heads with delight.  
"Alright, long ago, or as some may have it once upon a time, in a faraway land there was a prince, high up in his castle rich beyond all means. This young prince lived in a shining castle glorious beyond all others, and his kingdom just as well thrived like no other. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away, but she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress like Pinocchio's Fairy God Mother. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there._

"_Aunnie, why was everyone cursed?" Ann asked, forcing Anor to find a humble laugh at the magical wonder of little minds.  
"Well it's because those people who lived in it had opportunities. Opportunities to help the prince, teach him lessons, make him see the error of his ways and what was proper especially for a ruler of a kingdom. Unfortunately, it was the 1700's or so and back then especially in France there was not a good representation of what the royals knew about the poppers. Though that's where the servants should have helped, they should have taught him how to be a decent ruler even if the time frame did not have the best representation for this-"  
"Basically kids, you don't help someone who's a big meany, no matter how they treat them be friendly and try helping them. You're asking to get similar treatment if they are punished. Just think you see someone do something not so good you should try to correct them or at least help advise them on a different route. But you can't help everyone, the decent thing to do is try. If you try at least you know the ideas in their head, and you stood up for the middle man rather then turned away kinda like a superhero protects people correcting someone can sometimes be just that to those looking for help. The friends of the prince are punished cause they didn't correct him them, they just sat and let it happen so they two sinned by turning the blind eye. And remember turning a blind eye is always a horrible thing to do."  
"Blind eye, you mean I have to go blind!" An screamed while her brother watched with horrification fixated on his face._

_Laughing the two friends shook their heads. "No honeys!" An laughed brushing her hand over both their heads and kissing their foreheads gentle as a butterfly's wings. "You see turning a blind eye does not mean you are blind. It does mean if you do it enough you make the whole world blind. But neither are literal, in other words it means if you ignore what's before you, then you are at fault. Ignoring the obvious is acting as if you are blind, or rather equiv-I mean equal to how a blind person can't see. It's a bad habit to own, and we are asked by God not to do this. If we did then we'd be like Moses's brother who refused to let the Jews go free."  
"So is blind eye the same as lying."_

"_No!" Owen answered quick trying to hide the force of laughter wishing to roll off him. "There different, but similar-"_

"_Its something you will have to understand when you're older. But for now just know they ignored what happened because of social order at the time. Now if you don't mind you three, unless you wish to end the story for the knight here and just use the rest to ask us questions. I would like to return to the story before you two are late for bed."  
Everyone nodded, situating themselves once more, while she waited watching them with a dignified brow waiting for them to test her on the situation.  
"Alright-where was I? Oh yes…khm….Some time passed and in a village quite a distance away a merchant who had three sons and three daughters set off for market, he asked each of his three daughters what she would like as a present on his return. The first daughter wanted a brocade dress, the second a pearl necklace, but the third, whose name was Beauty, the youngest, prettiest and sweetest of them all, said to her father:_

_"All I'd like is a rose you've picked specially for me!"_

It seemed that night was blessed to have. Anora thought more of it after all three years had passed; she no longer was twenty-three and troubled by her parents death. No that had helped define her as toils of late took hold and swept away everything.

Owen and her shared a house in Oregon now, when only days after that seemingly blissful night on what was a tragedy for her, to find horror strike them both as their best friends, friends they grew up with took a tragic turn thanks to a drunk driver.  
Brent, the children's father did not make it. While Loral sat in the hospital the last three years on life support in coma, though signs of her ever waking were far harder than they could expect. Oregon was closest to her, and the children needed that. While they both could commute to Washington even if it was hours' drive to their perceptive jobs, they did what they needed for the children to have the lives they deserved.

Tapping the pen to the desk, she stared angrily at her computer; the Microsoft screen was blank, having deleted over a hundred attempts by now. She already had a publicist waiting, waiting for this to come out. If only this blog could write itself.  
She grumbled as her dark brown locks hung slightly off her shoulders, forcing her to brush them back with annoyance. What was wrong with her? She huffed yet another hair fell in front of her face slouching upon the desk.

What was there to write about from someone like her?

Loss of innocence?

Yeah it was not like that wasn't already a cliché, oh yeah it was. Then again what else would anyone expect? She lost all sorts of innocence far too young. It was that day the loss of two friends that changed her. It seemed a century ago since she last told a story like that day. Told it like she used to using her acting skills to make the voices, while Owen helped her in whatever way he could.

Maybe she was suffering some hidden mental disorder that was just coming out? She wondered as she looked to the small table calendar sitting on her desk, the ripped out page of certain dates, all outdated taped to the wall while the day, that one happy day was forever circled like a dream that could never end.  
There was so much laughter filled in that moment, she almost was jealous of herself, or felt foolish to think that any of them could have so much happiness without it turning on them a moment later. Or rather have it souring like rotten milk.

Their lives were a raisin in the sun, dried up and withered before they were even thirty. These were the years that were supposed to define them, or so people said. Most people she graduated with or at least her age were already out there having adventures, getting jobs, finishing school, getting married; doing something worthwhile. Only she was stuck, especially failing at writing her book that is due in six months, and still nothing sat on paper.  
Three years and that phone call still haunted her, she could not speak or even walk, it was as if her life had ended instead of her friend's life on the line. All she knew now was the bitterness that end had brought; sometimes she even wondered what she was doing here?  
Was she depressed? Yes, there was no question about that, if it weren't for the children she might as well have thought more upon suicide then just a slight inkling being quickly shushed.  
How she looked at the bottle it seemed a habit now to sit out and just stare, glaring as if daring herself ot just pop the top and let her mind be numbed. How she wished to be genetically related to her family, at least then she would have the possibility of her aunt's gene and become an alcoholic. How she craved to be one, but something lasted something long in her that like her friend promising to strangle her from the grave that kept her from taking that leap to the end.  
Several days in that hospital were too much; even now sitting in there a few hours seemed like weeks. She'd eventually find herself without the kids, wandering around, and occasionally it would lead her to the stairs where she just stared looking up, sometimes laying silently on a step like a run staring up at the very top like a stairway to heaven.

Anora wondered if she ever could, or would do so without knowing it. That she'd one day climb the steps, look at the ledge and eventually free fall to the ground. It seemed so much better than this torture.

"Ugh" she growled pulling her ragged hair forward angered at her nerves. She couldn't do anything because she promised her friend. All she wanted was release, and still therapy was not helping. It was making Owen and her worst. Some days she even wondered if he would even come home. She knew he wanted to run, probably burry himself and that plane of his in the ground. But even he was plagued with the reality they had to stay strong for the kids, somehow they kept them just sane enough.  
"Imagine it, miss independent a mother at twenty-six, and yet a virgin?" she mumbled to herself, taking a sip of her coffee as she leaned forward looking worst then a drunken wreck. She hardly even made up her hair today, though she would have to eventually.  
Sipping her coffee as if it was an alcoholic's drink, she stared with her sunken baggy eyes at the blank screen once again begging God what to do. At least wanting a clear answer, because for the last three years her life seemed to be in pieces and whatever he was telling her was like a bad antenna wire on old TV set.

"Where to begin?" she mumbled to herself staring at the screen and looking to the calendar date at first blankly, before a smile crept upon her face, the first one in months and she huffed. "Of course," she mumbled under her breath. "In front of me this whole time."

Taking in a deep breath, and a determined sip of Joe, her fingers grazed upon the keys as if an old friends she began to great again.  
_Once upon a time - The End_!

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I warned you, she'd be in a bad place in this chapter... Any case it will get better. Your going to learn a bit more about her in the next chapter where our story begins. And soon she will find herself in the midst of a conflict for freedom, while having to figure out the best placement for her godchildren and for herself. Was her destiny really just to be a mother? You'll find out.

Anyone wish to make the cover art for this story please let me know. I may do the contest per chapter for new covers each time, but I have not made up my mind if I am going to do this or not for this story so for now if you would like to make a cover art feel free, I have no ideas currently to do my own.

Thank you for reading, tell me what you think.

For now I bid thee adu.

Go HAWKS!


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